


piano keys

by rurokun



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Body Worship, Bullying, Harassment, Hurt/Comfort, Infatuation, M/M, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, Public Humiliation, Sexual Harassment, bottom!Louis, i fucking love bottom louis okay, seriously, what is bottom!harry, what the hell is that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-23 00:30:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/919856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rurokun/pseuds/rurokun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry loves Louis too much, to the point that every touch and kiss and gasp from the smaller male slowly destroys every inch of sanity that he's not so sure he even wants to hold onto.</p>
            </blockquote>





	piano keys

 

 

Dedicated to Sylvanna

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

"Harry, what on Earth are you doing?"

"Nothing."

Louis' soft laugh puts another smile on Harry's face as he watches his pretty boyfriend carefully mix together powders and chemicals in a glass jar above the Bunsen burner.

"Maybe if you would stop staring at me, we could finish this assignment."

"Or, I can just keep staring at you."

Louis smiles again, glancing towards green eyes. Harry is sitting in the seat adjacent to his own, right cheek squished against his palm as he rests his elbow on the laboratory table, not taking his eyes off of Louis' figure.

He's beautiful.

 

 

 

 

 

Harry fell in love with Louis three years ago.

Specifically, three years, one month, and four days ago.

He wrote it in his diary, right next to the entry he wrote when he saw the Arctic Monkeys live in concert.

But Louis is much more important than the Arctic Monkeys.

Louis is everything that Harry couldn't be.

He's the good and the bad in life that Harry fell in love with. Harry didn't really like himself. He found himself to be an empty shell and he was lost for a very long time but Louis found him. And he didn't think that anyone would want to find him, but Louis found him and kept him and breathed life back into him.

Louis is perfect.

And Harry never wants to take his eyes off of him.

 

 

 

 

 

The two lovebirds walk to their 5th period together when they notice a small sign on the door from their teacher.

_"Have to go make a few copies, might be about 10 minutes. Don't break anything! - Mr. Wallace"_

"Good, cause I have to take a piss," Harry mutters.

"You should have used the bathroom during lunch break."

"I didn't have to go before."

The older male rolls his eyes as Harry gives him a swift kiss on the cheek and sprints to the washrooms.

Louis quietly makes his way to his desk and is about to take off his messenger bag until he hears laughter from the back of the classroom. Louis turns to find Stan Lucas, the school bully, snickering in the back of the class with his other lackeys.

"How cute. Do all of the queers show such public displays of affection at school?"

"Shove off, Stan," Louis replies, hanging his school bag on the back of his chair.

"Aww, did I hurt the little homo? Do you want a hug? I bet you'd like that."

The group of boys laugh once more, slapping the now smug Stan on the shoulder.

"I said fuck off, Stan."

A chorus of 'ooh's' fills the classroom as Louis stands up from his chair.

"Oh, fuck off? Does this mean you want to fuck me?"

"I never said-"

"Ah, but you implied it! Tell us, Lou. How does it feel, having a dick shoved up your arse?"

The classroom then fills with laughter as Louis turns bright red, failing to retort an insult.

"Look, the little faggot is blushing! What a fucking wanker!"

Tears were now cascading down Louis' cheeks as he turns and runs out of the classroom. He's almost home free until he hears someone shout his name. He looks back to see Harry running down the hall, a look of concern on his face.

"Louis? Louis, what's wrong? What's the matter?"

The blue eyed teen could only shake his head, and mouth the words "I'm sorry" as he runs down the opposite end of the hallway.

 

 

 

 

 

Harry is livid.

He quickly enters the classroom, fists clenched.

"What happened?!"

The classroom becomes silent as Harry's voice echoes between corners.

"Don't make me fucking repeat myself!"

"It was Stan, Harry! He was being a shitty bigot," Zayn exclaims, pointing at the accused student.

Before Stan is able to run away, Harry charges towards him. He grabs him by the shoulders and slams him excruciatingly hard against a chalkboard, making Stan wince in pain.

"What did you tell him?!"

"Nothing, Styles! I swear!"

"Don't give me that shit, Stan! What did you fucking tell him?!"

"He called him a faggot, Harry."

The curly haired teen turns towards the back of the classroom, where Liam is clutching a book in his hands. Harry lets go of Stan's collar and walks towards Liam.

"Did you hear anything else?"

"I caught everything on my phone."

Stan gapes at the silent scholar. "You piece of-"

"Oh, piss off, Stan. You only talk shit because you never get caught. You're really just a fucking pansy."

Stan flinches at the sharp words, but manages to return a sneer Liam's way.

"May I listen to it?"

Liam pulls out his phone, and presses Play on the recording.

Harry keeps his head down, not moving an inch as he listens to the recording of Stan calling Louis obscene names.

Stan stays where he is, slightly terrified of the curly haired student.

Harry raises his head to look at Stan.

"I'm not going to give you another chance, because I love Louis. And so I'm going to hurt you the same way that you hurt him. Maybe not today nor tomorrow, but just know that I am going to hurt you, again and again until you fall and never get up."

Harry gives him one last look before leaving the class to search for Louis.

"Stan, he was cryin-"

"Shut up! I fucking know that, so just shut your bloody fucking mouth."

 

 

 

 

 

Louis is beautiful.

And not in the way that makes people want to smile or whisper compliments, but in the way that it hurts to look at him.

His beige skin looks almost unreal, like an ocean of sun kissed chocolate that you desperately want to swim in.

His eyes are not blue, they're aquamarine in the sunlight, cerulean in a dining room, royal blue underneath the sheets.

His grin is not perfect, it's crooked, turning his smile into a smirk, and his laugh into melody.

He is everything and nothing, which makes him all the more beautiful.

 

 

 

 

 

Harry runs down the hall, searching every closet, interrupting every classroom, pissing off every teacher trying to find Louis.

"Check the music room, Harry!" His friend, Niall, yells out as he bursts into yet another classroom.

Harry quickly nods him a thanks, and runs down to the end of the hall. He exits the left wing and is just about to open the door to the music room when he stops in his tracks.

Someone is playing the piano.

It's Louis. He can tell because the notes are slightly off.

He can't reach every piano key, because his hands and fingers are so small.

Part of Harry wants to stay outside. Even with the notes being off-key, he thinks that Louis plays beautifully.

But he simply can't do that.

 

 

 

 

 

Louis is sensitive.

Yes, he may be a bit rude and snippy on a regular basis, but in reality, Louis has a bit of a soft streak inside of him.

The first time Harry seen it was when Louis' mother got remarried.

The older teenager was one of the groomsmen. While Harry couldn't stop looking at Louis, Louis couldn't stop looking at his mother.

Oh, and his mother looked so happy. Her eyes were overflowing with pure joy as she walked down the aisle towards her soon-to-be husband, and because Louis adored his mother, he couldn't help the small tears cascading down his cheeks as he watched his mother say "I do" to the man she loved.

The second time Harry had seen it was the first time that he and Louis slept together.

Louis had started to cry, and Harry didn't ask any questions or push him away, but rather held him close, kissing away tears and caressing his soft shoulders as Louis fell asleep in the crook of his neck.

And now, after over a year of dating, Harry hopes this will be the last time he ever sees Louis cry.

 

 

 

 

 

Harry carefully opens the door to the music room.

He can't hold back the smile on his face.

_'There he is. The love of my life.'_

Harry doesn't say anything, but rather stands, listens, looks but never touches, because Louis is beyond beautiful. He is stunning, like a work of art, a painting that he wishes to leap inside and live with forever, but he remembers not to touch.

The younger male slowly makes his way to the stage, never taking his eyes off of Louis as he continues to run his small hands against the pearl white piano keys.

Soon enough, Louis finishes the song he is playing, and sighs.

He jumps at the sound of soft clapping, and quickly stands up.

Blue eyes discover Harry and smile weakly.

"Harry-"

Before Louis can utter another word, Harry takes one, two, three strides across the stage and embraces him.

"I'm so sorry, Lou," Harry whispers into feather soft hair.

"It's okay," Louis replies, inhaling the scent of Armani code.

Harry retracts himself to look at Louis. He smiles, kissing Louis' light brown hair, emerald eyes overflowing with love and adoration for the older teenager.

"I love you, Louis."

"Then, do me a favor."

"Anything."

Louis carefully stands on his tip toes and positions his lips mere centimeters away from Harry's.

"Make me feel better."

 

 

 

 

 

Louis is a work of art.

He is simply breathtaking, that every time Harry touches him it's as if he is falling in love all over again. Many a time, he would kiss Louis just because, to remind himself that this was real.

His whole being baffled Harry, from the way he walks, to the way he speaks, to the way he looks.

It sounds strange, but that is exactly why Harry never likes to take his eyes off of Louis, because he is just so incredibly beautiful and stunning and unreal that he might suddenly disappear if he looks away and the thought of that happening pains Harry so much to the point of no return.

Every single day, he falls in love with Louis.

And so he touches him.

 

 

 

 

 

Harry kisses Louis, and it is not so much the feeling of the kiss, but rather that it is Louis' lips against his own which make him groan in arousal.

Louis returns the groan, running his lithe fingers up Harry's back before tangling his hands in brown curls, forcing his lips closer to his own.

Their bodies press against each other, curving and filling every bone and gap sculpted into their skin. They gasp for air before bringing their lips together once more, clinging to one another as if they would fall if they didn't. Their hips rock against each other, making Louis gasp into the kiss, his whole body beginning to tremble as he opts to lean against the ebony piano for support

Harry can't breathe. He wants all of his senses to be flooded with Louis. He wants to keep the almond oil scent of his hair embedded into his skin, the sound of his breathy gasps forever on replay in his mind, the sweet and savory taste of his small lips on his own, and the image of those beautiful aquamarine, cerulean, royal blue eyes etched into his memory.

And he can finally touch, feel every single dip and curve that graces his tan body. He can run the pads of his fingers over trembling skin, nip and bite and pull at the soft stomach, caress his unusually large palms over supple thighs as he picks Louis up and lays him strewn across the top of the ebony piano. Louis whines in protest, reaching up to take Harry's curls, brushing his lips against Harry's.

"Please! Oh, God! Please... Harry... Make me feel better..."

And perhaps Harry should look away, for he doesn't deserve to gaze upon such a breathtaking visage.

If looking at Louis is a sin, then Hell must truly be Heaven.

 

 

 

 

 

Harry can't go a second without feeling even a small amount of Louis' flesh pressed against his own. He climbs over him, snaring him as if he were a beautiful fairy like creature. The taller male quickly begins his assault on those lips, teeth, neck, and Louis makes these beautiful little sounds that reverberate in Harry's blood.

The younger male begins delicately, as if Louis is a precious jewel. He runs his hands over Louis' torso, taking delight in the way that he squirms and gasps. He gently bites a nipple on his way down, earning a sharp tug on his hair and a breathy moan to his ear. Soon, he reaches those milky, supple thighs, reveling in how soft and silky they feel against his lips.

Louis can't form a coherent thought, he's so blatantly aroused and he hasn't a clue as to why his trousers are still on.

But Harry, Harry, Harry... That's all he needs at this moment in time right now. Not words or soft kisses, but his body as a whole. Harry is a drug. His touches are crystals and the way he nips at his collarbones makes him lose his inhibitions. His bright green eyes remind him of the alpine forests and he wants to run inside and lose himself, run far away and never look back.

 

 

 

 

 

Louis is a terrible person.

He doesn't know how, but his whole world completely revolves around Harry. He doesn't care for anybody and it hurts him because he should care about his mother's divorce and Lottie's broken heart and the twin's embarrassing slip up at the school recital but he simply does not care anymore. Harry is the first person he thinks of when he wakes up and the last person he thinks of when he falls asleep.

And then, one day, Harry tells Louis that he is practically infatuated with him, tears rolling down his cheeks while holding the older male flush to his own body. Louis starts to cry and tells him that it was okay and that he loves him.

And it is perfectly okay because of the fact that Louis is infatuated with him as well.

 

 

 

 

 

This cursed heat sends shocks of adrenaline running throughout their bodies. Louis doesn't want to wait anymore, and he nearly begs for Harry to take him. The younger male doesn't hesitate, and he quickly moistens two fingers and thrusts them inside of Louis' puckered entrance.

He winces at the sudden intrusion, but he doesn't care, he just thinks of Harry, that's all that matters to him. Soon enough, he's gasping as Harry's long and slender fingers find his prostate, and he nearly screams until he remembers that this is still the music room.

But Louis' moans are most likely music to Harry's ears.

Harry hates it, he absolutely loathes hurting Louis, but the older male loves it, he craves it. He can tell by the way he groans in the back of his throat and the way his nails leave crescent shaped indentations in the back of Harry's neck.

And soon enough, Harry loves it, too.

The curly haired teenager sends another finger inside Louis' tight entrance, curling his fingers just so that Louis moans and hits his head against the top of the piano.

"I'll make you feel good, Lou. I promise. I'll send you to the stars," Harry whispers in his ear as he lowers himself towards Louis' throbbing erection. Harry licks his lips as he draws a quick swipe up his shaft.

"Fuck, Harry! Please, oh God.." Louis moans, voice already beginning to crack and tear.

"I want to make you feel good." Harry smirks as he moistens his palm and starts giving Louis a good rubdown.

And it works, because in a matter of minutes, Louis is a hot mess, cheeks pink and lips swollen from biting them to hold back screams. Between Harry's tongue - _Jesus fucking Christ, that tongue_ \- and the ongoing abuse from those long slender fingers pumping on his cock, Louis is about ready to burst.

But no, Harry's a little shit, with those tantalizingly long fingers and devilish tongue, and he abruptly stops, earning a frustrated whimper from Louis' throat.

"Harry! I give up! Hurry, please!"

"Do you love me?"

Poor Louis, after the onslaught of heat and hormones rushing through his body, almost cries at the soft words, but the throbbing in his groin has become extremely annoying, and he simply nods and delves in for a kiss.

That's all that Harry needs.

Harry reaches for his pants, which are draped across the piano bench. He digs into the front pocket, and pulls out a condom and a small tube of lubricant.

"Harry, let me open the condom."

The younger teen looks confused, but doesn't argue, and hands him the small plastic package. Louis then tosses the packet to the far end of the stage.

"You could have said no."

"I tried that before, and you still put it on."

Harry blushes. He is always very careful whenever he and Louis have sex, always taking every precaution and being aware of every consequence. But this time is different, because Louis _needs_ Harry. He needs every patch of skin, every bead of sweat, every gasp, every moan.

The curly haired teen wastes no time flipping open the cap and squeezing a generous amount of shiny gel onto his palm, lathering some on his cock and leaving the rest on his fingers.

"Louis..."

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"And I love you, Harry."

"Do me one favor?"

"Anything."

Harry lowers his head to Louis ear, his scalding breath making the older male squirm.

"I locked the door."

Louis furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you-"

"Scream my name."

Louis gasped. "Harry-"

Suddenly, the curly haired teenager glides his tongue from the shell of Louis' ear to his collarbone. He shivers in delight.

"Just like that. But louder."

Louis looks at him. He could face suspension, expulsion even, for performing a lewd or vulgar act in a school. He could face isolation from his friends, his family even, for doing something this scandalous.

And that's exactly why he does it.

 

 

 

 

 

Harry quickly shoves three fingers inside Louis' tight entrance, loosening him up once more, trying to melt the tension away.

"Fuck, just do it already, Harry!"

The younger male smirked, and instead of ramming his slick cock into Louis as he oh so desperately wanted to, he decides to torture him. Harry positions his tip and ever so slowly pushes his cock into Louis' entrance.

Louis nearly screams, the sensation of being split apart at a snail's pace bringing tears to his eyes. He pulls at Harry's curly hair, clawing at his neck and shoulders, breaking the skin at certain places.

"Faster, shit!"

"Are you sure?" Harry grinned devilishly.

Louis reaches up and takes Harry's lips with his own as he pushes himself onto his cock. Harry groans, biting down on Louis' bottom lip.

Tired of playing games, Harry pushes his cock inside of Louis until his hips curve against Louis' plump ass.

"Fuck, Lou... So tight... Shit..."

A gasp that escapes Louis' mouth quickly turns into a loud moan as Harry pushes against Louis' prostrate.

"Harry! Oh, fuck, Harry, harder!"

The younger teen digs his fingertips into the sides of Louis' hips, bursting blood vessels as pale blue bruises began to form. Louis' throat is dry, everything is dry yet damp from his sweat and he can hardly breathe. But he loves it, and he screams Harry's name over and over again until he can't hear himself think anymore.

Harry exhales shakily, the feeling of Louis' ass against his thighs intoxicates his whole being. Nothing matters, nothing in the world matters except for Louis, his eyes, his hair, his stomach, his cock, his thighs, his legs.

Absolutely nothing.

The two teenagers don't last much longer, with Louis arching his back off of the top of the piano, an inaudible gasp escaping his lips as he spurts onto his stomach. Harry comes soon after, releasing himself inside of Louis as he slowly pulls his softened cock out with a slight wince.

The younger male lies down next to Louis, their legs dangling off the edge of the piano.

"I'm sorry."

Harry looks over at Louis, shock evident on his face. "Louis, you did nothing-"

"No, not the Stan thing. I just... I'm in love with you, Harry."

"That's always wonderful to hear, but I don't see why-"

"You don't understand. I'm... enamored by you. I.. can't get you out of my mind and I'm scared because I can't think of anyone else but you and the only way to calm myself is to touch you... reach out and touch you," Louis whispered shakily, reaching out to cup Harry's face in his hands.

Harry searches Louis' eyes for any hint of hesitation, and his face breaks out into a grin as he captures Louis' lips in a soft kiss.

"Harry?"

"I love you... and only you... and you're the only one that I live for..."

Louis reaches out and kisses Harry once more, bringing their bodies together again.

He feels cold.

And it is one of the best feelings that he can ever imagine.

**Author's Note:**

> The ending is so shitty, oh my God. I just wanted to post something before school started. I did not use a beta for this, so I'm also terribly sorry for the grammar mistakes.
> 
> Kudos and comments are highly appreciated, thank you. x


End file.
